


Jingling Bells

by Hepzheba



Series: Tumblr ficlets [22]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Blizzards & Snowstorms, Deputy Stiles Stilinski, Fluff, Horseman Derek Hale, Horses, M/M, Sledding, Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-06 17:14:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3142304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hepzheba/pseuds/Hepzheba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles' Jeep breaks down in the middle of nowhere and his rescue comes in a horse-drawn sleigh. It might be Death coming for him. (It's not, it's Derek.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jingling Bells

**Author's Note:**

> So I asked for people's favorite Christmas songs and umaumbrella submitted Jingle Bells. This is the result.

Stiles’ jeep breaks down. Of course it does. It’s dark, he’s in the middle of fucking nowhere and a fucking blizzard is roaring outside of his car. Of fucking course his car chooses this moment to break down. It couldn’t have broken down in, say, the summer time? Or maybe two days ago when he’d been out driving in the day and the snow had been all white and glistening in the sunlight? That had been a nice day to take a several miles long walk. Not this day. Of course Stiles’ phone is dead, too. It’s just his luck. He has no choice but to get out of his car and start walking. Seriously, how is this his life?

When he hears the sound of bells jingling he thinks he might have actually passed out from the cold in the snow, because what the fuck? The sound of the bells comes closer quickly and he turns to see a small, white light approaching – much like the one on a bike. He wonders if death comes in a horse-drawn sleigh. That’s most likely.

“Whoa!” Death calls and the horse – a huge brown and white thing (rather unlike the black, slim thing Stiles imagined Death would have) – stops next to him. “Are you alright?” Death calls out to him.

“Yeah, I’m fine, brilliant actually. I just felt like leaving my car in the middle of nowhere and take a hike. In a freaking blizzard.”

“I could just leave you here,” Death says. “You’d probably die before you reach the next house though.”

Death seems reluctant to leave Stiles to die though so he might not be death at all.

“What do you propose I do then? My phone’s dead.”

“Come on, you can come with me home and use my phone,” not-death says.

Stiles approaches the sleigh carefully – it does bring him rather close to the horse’s rear and Stiles knows that horses kick if you come too close, that’s common knowledge. He hesitates only a moment before climbing onto the sleigh. Not-death is surprisingly young for being someone who drives around in a sleigh. Stiles thought only really old people that lived before cars were a thing had sleighs and huge-ass horses pulling said sleighs. This guy is probably somewhere in his thirties. Stiles can’t really see his face from the beanie and the scarf the guy’s wearing but he can see dark scruff.

“Here,” not-death offers and shoves a blanket at Stiles.

Stiles arranges the blanket around himself like a cocoon and leans back. Not-death makes a clucking sound and the sleigh starts moving again.

“What are you doing out?” Stiles asks after a few moments of silence. Stiles is generally bad at handling silences.

“I’m on my way home from my sister,” not-death says.

“In this weather?” Stiles questions.

“You were driving too in this weather.”

“Yeah, but that’s inside and warm and not,” he motions with his hands at the outdoors.

“But your car broke down,” not-death says and there’s definitely a smug tone in his voice.

Stiles grumbles but can’t come up with a good reply to that. They sit in silence and Stiles’ eyelids begin to drop, the jingling from the bells isn’t as annoying as he first would’ve thought but rather calming.

“You’re not passing out, are you?” not-death asks after a while. Stiles has no idea for how long they’ve been going.

“Just tired, have been working my ass off for the last few days.”

Not-death hums noncommittally. Stiles jerks awake when the sleigh pulls to a stop. Not-death is out of the sleigh quickly and starts to untie – or whatever he does – it from the horse. Stiles gets out of the sleigh at a more leisure pace and follows not-death and the horse into the stable.

“This is Nova,” not-death introduces the horse once they’re inside and he’s placed the horse in the aisle between the horse’s boxes - isn’t that what it’s called? There are four boxes, but they’re all empty. “She’s completely harmless, you can pet her if you want.”

Stiles approaches the huge horse carefully as not-death removes her equipment. The horse puts her nose against his fingers when he extends his hand to her and he startles backwards, pulling his hand to his chest again. Not-death snorts and Stiles turns to him.

“You’re Derek Hale,” he blurts out because he recognizes the guy now with the light. Derek snorts again.

“Nothing gets past your keen senses, does it?”

“It was dark earlier,” Stiles defends himself.

“I thought you were supposed to be a deputy,” Derek smirks and Stiles scowls at him before he catches up to the fact that Derek knows who he is and what he does for a living.

“You know who I am?”

“We went to school together,” Derek tells him as he starts brushing the horse.

“Yeah, but I was a freshman when you were a senior. Seniors don’t usually notice freshmen.”

Derek’s face looks a bit pink; it’s probably from the cold.

“You’re the Sheriff’s son.”

Stiles nods, it’s a valid enough reason; everyone knows the Sheriff and that he’s got a spaz for a son.

“She won’t bite you, you know,” Derek says as he switches to brush the horse’s other side. “She just wants to smell you.”

“Okay,” Stiles replies and approaches the horse once again with his hand extended. He must be crazy. Or he’s trying to impress the reason he realized he was bi when he started high school. Whatever.

The horse doesn’t bite him, she sniffs his hand and he pets her forehead awkwardly. She closes her eyes and sighs.

“You really like this, don’t you?” Stiles murmurs to the horse.

“She’s an attention-whore,” Derek replies and puts away the brush. He bends down to check the horse’s feet – hooves, whatever – that sure has to be dangerous. The horse doesn’t seem to mind Derek lifting her feet though. Stiles gets front seat to ogling his ass so he doesn’t complain either.

“You’re a lucky one, aren’t you?” he asks the horse, who yawns in reply.

Derek puts away the thing he’d used on the horse’s hooves and makes a clucking sound. The horse turns around in the aisle and walks into one of the boxes. Stiles now realizes that the horse hadn’t been tied up.

“Don’t you have to tie up the horse or she’ll run away?” he asks.

“Where would she go?” Derek gestures around at the closed doors and he’s got a point. “Besides, she’s well-behaved. Aren’t you, sweetie?” His voice gets a fond tone to it and Stiles stares as he pets the horse’s forehead. He walks into the room where he’d left the horse’s equipment and comes out with three buckets. He empties one of them in Nova’s manger and the other two in the mangers in two of the other boxes. Stiles notices that one of the boxes is empty of hay, unlike the other three boxes.

“Just stand here,” Derek directs and points to the wall next to the door they came in through. Stiles quickly complies as Derek goes to open a door at the other end from the one they came in through. Two other horses come in, both brown but one of them much smaller than the other. They walk into a box each and Derek closes the doors after them.

“Is it a foal? The small one?” He asks, not daring to move until Derek’s closed the doors behind the horses.

Derek nods and pats the small horse.

“He’s a year and a half,” he says and extends his hand to the other horse in the box next to the foal. “Her son,” he points to the big, brown horse.

Stiles approaches cautiously and extends his hand to the foal. It seems uninterested in them as it eats from the manager.

“Come on, let’s go inside.”

Stiles follows Derek out of the stable and to the cottage next to it. Derek pulls off his beanie and jacket and Stiles tries not to gape at the broad shoulders and nice chest that’s probably even nicer without a ridiculous Christmas sweater.

“You want to call someone?” Derek asks and shows Stiles into the kitchen where he has an honest to god phone with a screwed cord.

“The nineties called and wanted their phone back,” Stiles says before he can help himself.

“If I’ve taken their phone, how would they call?” Derek asks, not missing a beat and not seeming offended at all, but rather amused. Stiles barks out a laughter and Derek leaves him so he can call his dad and explain what’s happened.

“I can drive you home,” Derek says from somewhere else in the house before Stiles’ dad has picked up. “I have a car, too.”

“Thanks, that won’t be necessary, I think my dad can come pick me up.”

Not that Stiles would mind Derek driving him home. Derek comes pack to the kitchen in a white tank top.

“I’m taking a shower,” he says, motioning for somewhere beside the kitchen. “Do you want to-”

“Join you? Yeah,” Stiles exhales shakily as he drinks in Derek’s chest in the tank top. It should be illegal. Stiles should arrest him on the spot.

Derek stares at him.

“Shit, I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

“Hello?” Stiles’ dad chooses that moment to pick up.

Derek keeps staring at him.

“Hi, dad, my car broke down and I-”

Derek stares at him, mouth slightly opened and… is his pupils dilated? Stiles can’t tell from this far away but Derek’s eyes seem darker. Derek’s eyes rake down Stiles’ body.

“Oh,” Stiles breathes out.

Derek seems to break out of whatever trance of staring at Stiles that he’s been in. He smirks slightly and pulls off his tank top revealing a six pack and pecs that looks so much better without cloth covering them. Derek wearing clothes should be illegal.

“I’m going to take a shower,” Derek smirks and turns. He’s got a swirling, black tattoo on his muscled back. Stiles wants to lick it. “Feel free to join me,” Derek calls over his shoulder. Stiles definitely whimpers at that.

“Son?” his dad inquires.

“Shit, yeah, sorry.”

Stiles is quite lucky his dad is used to him zoning out for reasons other than incredibly hot mountain men that offers to shower with Stiles.

“My car broke down but you don’t have to worry, I’m staying with a- uh- a friend tonight. And for a few days, hopefully.”

Stiles’ dad snorts.

“Yeah, okay, bye.”

Stiles hangs up without really waiting for his dad’s reply. He tugs off his clothes, almost falling and braining himself when he tries to get off his pants and socks at the same time. He manages to stay upright though and then he follows the sound of running water. Derek has his back to Stiles when he arrives to the bathroom, water running down it to a nice, round ass that Stiles wants to lick. Stiles wants to lick every part of Derek. He pulls off his underwear before stepping into the big shower next to Derek, they’re still not touching.

“What took you so long?” Derek asks, his voice smug, probably knowing exactly what he’s doing to Stiles. He turns, his face wet, and gorgeous.

“Uh,” Stiles replies intelligently and Derek crowds him in against the wall and continues to drag unintelligent sounds out of Stiles’ mouth for the next half hour. And then again later in the bed. Three times. And again in the morning.

Stiles considers arranging so his jeep breaks down more often so he can be rescued by insanely hot horse-men. But then again, he already has his own insanely hot horse-man that he won’t leave anytime soon.


End file.
